Intimate moments
by bloomandgrow
Summary: My first fanfic ever. Maria reflects on eight months of marriage. Pure fluff. AU - no anschluss. Rating changed from M to T.
1. Chapter 1

"Mother?"

"Yes darling?" Maria turned to her youngest child who was frowning in concentration as she tried to cut her schnitzel.

"Can we go on another picnic to celebrate your 'annie ver sary'?" Gretl struggled over the big word.

Maria helped her cut her food and replied "But we went on a picnic on Sunday. Surely you don't want to go on another picnic so soon?"

"Oh but we do! Please mother. It would be such fun." Marta joined her sister in pleading.

"Well, let's see. Let me talk to Father first and we can decide." Maria glanced at Georg at the other end of the table. She smiled to see him engaged in quiet conversation with Friedrich who was earnestly doing his best to look responsible and mature as he listened to his father. Georg looked up at his wife as he sensed her gaze on him. He raised one eyebrow slightly, his mouth quirked into the half smile that she adored. She smiled back serenely.

Eight months. They had been married eight months. She still marveled at the complete change in direction her life had taken. Never had she thought she would be a wife or a mother. How she cherished those two words – wife and mother – surely the two most beautiful words in any language. They carried within them the wealth of meaning for the extraordinary happiness her life was filled with now. A thousand precious moments of sweetness and bliss: the feel of Gretl's soft chubby arms around her neck as Maria rocked her back to sleep after a nightmare, softly singing the Brahms lullaby; Brigitta (the most exuberantly affectionate of her children) flinging her arms around her waist and hugging her tight; the boys allowing her to stroke their hair at night as she wished them goodnight and again when she woke them each morning. Her lovely reserved Louisa, warily letting her in inch by inch into her heart; linking arms with Liesl as they walked around the garden talking of grown up things. Marta dissolving into adorable gap-toothed giggles as the little girl regaled her with tales from her magical fantasy world of princesses, fairies and unicorns. Motherhood - she had not known that such happiness was possible.

The only lingering sadness in her heart was that she had not yet fallen pregnant. When she had finally had the courage to bring up her worries with Georg a week ago he had been loving and reassuring. "Darling, let God decide how big our family will be. It would be wonderful if have another child. I would love to have an adorable, feisty little girl with strawberry blonde hair like her mother. But if it is not to be, it does not matter. We have a big enough family already".

"But Agathe was able to give you so many children so easily" she had tried to keep the tears out of her voice. He had held her close, one hand cradling her face, gently wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "Oh my love" he paused, his voice husky with emotion, "don't you know you have given me immeasurably precious gifts already? You gave me back the seven children I had lost. You have brought love and grace and beauty into our lives, you have filled our home with joy and music and fun. You have made us a real family again. Those are priceless gifts that I can never repay." He rested his forehead against hers for a while she swallowed her tears. Then he reached for her hand, clasping it in both of his as he kissed her wedding ring. Despite her sadness she felt a skitter of desire run along her spine at the caress. Attempting to lighten the mood he had added with a mock salacious grin "Besides, you have a very demanding and selfish husband who is not yet ready to share you with a baby." Her watery smile turned into a reluctant laugh as he had swept her up in his arms with a dramatic flourish as he added, "and… we are having so much fun trying for a baby". He lowered her onto their bed, her arms going around his neck as he covered her body with his own.

Now, at the dinner table he was looking at her questioningly.

"Darling the children want to go on another picnic to celebrate our anniversary."

"Another one? Good heavens! Welll…" George put a finger to his mouth as he pretended to think about it, while all seven children began a chorus of pleading. He had barely finished his "Alright I suppose we could" before the shouts of his children's hurrahs drowned him out.

How different this dinner was to her first meal here a year ago when she had been a naïve, impulsive young woman filled with purpose, utterly determined to make him see how his neglect of his children was harming both them and himself. The children had been silent, tense and tearful, chastened by her reminder of her vulnerability in a new house. At that dinner he had barely been able to keep his annoyance in check. She seemed impervious to his glares of irritation and his sarcasm, which only served to needle him even more, making him intensely irritated that she refused to be intimidated by his icy demeanour. Something he had rarely – if ever – come across before.

Now however he lifted his glass of wine, his eyes meeting hers over the rim, giving her a quick wink. She felt her heart flip in response. It was part of their secret language of communication they had developed since their marriage. Her very proper aristocratic husband was not given to public displays of affection but the tender looks he gave her, the delicious kisses on her hand with his eyes never leaving hers, the loving smiles more than made up for it.

And in private… well that was another matter entirely. As soon as the door shut on their suite of rooms upstairs he would shed his very respectable visage as they became enveloped in their own private world of intense passion. She did not mind that he maintained his sophisticated mask in public because she thoroughly enjoyed the fact that only she knew what he was like underneath that veneer of restraint. Only she had seen him without his tie and jacket. Only she knew what he looked like shaving in the morning, wearing just a towel around his waist, his hair damp from his shower, a lock of hair falling rakishly over his forehead making him look like a dangerously handsome pirate. Only she knew what he looked like in the throes of passion, his impossibly handsome face flushed and taut with desire, a sheen of dampness on his forehead….

Maria gulped, appalled, as she realized her thoughts had strayed into entirely inappropriate areas for the dinner table, a blush crawling up her face, making Georg look at her with quizzical amusement as she hastily dropped her gaze to her plate. Fortunately none of the children had noticed her embarrassment. After the meal as the children filed out of the dining room ahead of them he waited for her and whispered in her ear as she came up to him. "Were they _very_ naughty thoughts Baroness?" She tried to affect a haughty look and walk past him with dignity. But he held her arm gently, his eyes amused. "Well… yes they were rather" she admitted.

"Ah hah I thought so! How intriguing. Well I look forward to hearing more about them later Baroness." He often called her Baroness, usually in a teasing way to remind her of her initial panic once she realized that she would become part of the wealthy aristocracy once she married him. A role she had neither coveted nor desired and filled with her with terrible anxiety. Over time and with his reassurance and guidance she had become more comfortable with her position though it never held any importance for her. He also sometimes called her 'Fraulein', again in that private teasing way which often made it sound like an endearment, as she sometimes called him 'Captain', both of them gently mocking the previous difference in their status, and their less than ideal start.

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

_I look forward to hearing more about those thoughts later Baroness" he had murmured to her in the dining room._

Later came soon enough. After dinner the whole family always gathered to do their own activities together - read, play chess, practice music, or do homework - then it was bedtime for the children. Though bedtime was now staggered for the older children so that they could stay in their rooms and read, Maria and Georg would often retire early after putting the little ones to bed and bidding the older ones goodnight. If the household staff noticed that the Baron and Baroness had such a scandalously early bedtime they were too discreet to mention it, undoubtedly also making allowances for the couple's newlywed status.

Georg opened the door leading to their bedroom, his impeccable manners letting Maria go ahead of him as usual. He shut the door, leaning back against it with one hand behind his back still holding the door handle. "Well?" he asked as he watched her move to the far end of the room, his eyes gleaming, not needing to elaborate on the question of what had caused her blushes at the dinner table. She could feel her face turning pink again, as she attempted to dismiss it with an airy "Oh it was nothing really."

He went over to the gramophone and put on one of their favourite pieces - _Pachelbel's Canon in D Major_. With a slight crackling and scratching sound the record started, bringing delicate violin notes wafting into the room. Having already shed his jacket on a chair he walked slowly towards her while undoing the cufflinks that she always struggled with, "Maria you have always been terrible at lying," he murmured.

She felt a thrill of excitement as he approached, anticipating what would happen. Her back was against the wall as he stood close to her. Placing his hands on the wall behind her on either side of her head, he leaned forward, his mouth tantalizingly close. "Tell me" he whispered.

His nearness, the warmth of his body, the smell of his aftershave mixed with his own personal scent, that beautiful mouth so close, and the exquisite notes of cello and violins reaching crescendo, were all playing havoc with her senses as she struggled to focus on what he had asked her. Her eyes on the scar on his chin that she loved to kiss, she reached up to undo his tie and the top buttons of his shirt. Her delicate fingers pulled his shirt from his trousers and reached underneath his shirt to stroke the skin of his waist and back loving the feel of the smoothness and hardness of skin and muscle.

She heard his sharply indrawn breath as her fingers found that particular spot under his ribs that always had him closing his eyes in pleasure. When he opened them again they were dark with desire. She undid the rest of the buttons of his shirt letting it hang open, her hands roaming, caressing sensitive areas of his chest, placing soft kisses on his throat and tasting the skin there. She could see the movement of his throat muscles in response, his breathing ragged.

He still did not kiss her, trying to maintain control over the situation and force an answer from her, though the rapid rise and fall of his chest told her that he was losing the struggle. She too was finding it hard to breathe as her heart began to beat faster, the heat rising in her, a familiar ache within her feminine core as her need for him rapidly escalated.

Watching her intently, with one hand he reached down and drew her hips into the hardness of his and she realized with a jolt of need that he was already deeply and passionately aroused. She felt her whole body clench in response, the ache becoming unbearable. She reached up and brought his lips down on hers, at the same time pressing her hips desperately against him, helpless with desire. And then they were both lost, the question long forgotten, both of them struggling to free each other from their clothes without breaking the kiss, as he edged her rapidly towards the bed.

Much later, the music had changed by the time their breathing and heartbeats had slowed. The superb soprano duet 'Barcarolle' from the opera _Tales of Hoffman_ by Offenbach was now playing. The soprano voices were almost unearthly in their beauty, and she felt her heart soar with it.

They had started playing music in their suite of rooms soon after returning from their honeymoon. It always added an exquisite dimension to their private moments because they both loved music so deeply. It also served the purpose of hiding their intimate sounds, because as Georg had teased her – they were sometimes rather noisy. She had been horrified to think that the staff, or worse – the children, would be able hear them, even though they were on the third floor. So the dramatic sounds of Beethoven, the exuberance of Mozart, the romance of Chopin or the intricate pieces of Bach were often heard coming from their bedroom using his latest model gramophone or the wireless which he had had moved into their suite.

Now they lay together her head pillowed on his shoulder while she drew small circles with her fingers on the surprisingly soft sprinkling of hair on his chest, unable to resist pressing her mouth to his slightly salty skin now and then. She sighed blissfully as the ethereal music flowed over them. The Barcarolle had become her favourite piece since their honeymoon. Georg had taken her to see the opera _Tales of Hoffman_ when they were in Paris. Later that night he had translated the words from the Barcarolle from its original French - Belle nuit , o nuit d'amour (Beautiful night, oh night of love), interspersing each line with kisses along her body. It still made her shiver with the pleasure of it.

Barcarolle* (Tales of Hoffman opera, by Jacques Offenbach)

Lovely night, oh, night of love  
Smile upon our joys!  
Night much sweeter than the day  
Oh beautiful night of love!  
Time flies by, and carries away  
Our tender caresses for ever!  
Time flies far from this happy oasis  
And does not return  
Burning zephyrs  
Embrace us with your caresses!  
Burning zephyrs  
Give us your kisses!  
Your kisses! Your kisses! Ah!  
Lovely night, oh, night of love  
Smile upon our joys!  
Night much sweeter than the day  
Oh, beautiful night of love!  
Ah! Smile upon our joys!  
Night of love, oh, night of love!  
Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!

Paris. She smiled with remembered happiness of their honeymoon. Memories of long languorous afternoons in their honeymoon suite, the windows and shutters thrown open to the muted sounds from the streets below, sunlight streaming in while a ceiling fan whirred overhead, soft as a breeze cooling their heated skin. She remembered the many hours lost in wonder and delight at the beauty of each other's bodies, when they would lose track of time and meals and only emerge occasionally to stroll the boulevards and parks. Often it would only take a look or a touch on the arm from one to the other to send them rushing back to their hotel, barely making it into their private suite before the desire would overwhelm them again.

She continued to be astonished, even now eight months into their marriage that her sophisticated and very experienced husband seemed to find her irresistible. She was frankly amazed at the power she seemed she seemed to have over him. A feeling of joy and even feminine pride coursed through her at the knowledge that her touch, her caresses and her kisses could elicit gasps, shudders of desire and agonized groans of pleasure from him. She remembered how as she overcame her shyness in those early weeks of their marriage he had encouraged her to explore his body with her hands and her lips as he had done with hers. A blush crept up her face as she remembered the things they had done, as well as his tender amusement at her initial shock during their honeymoon that he did not feel the need to constrain their activities to the bed or the bedroom or even nighttime hours.

"Maria?" he murmured, interrupting her reminiscences and bringing her back to the present.

"Mmm? Yes darling?" She had thought he had already drifted off into sleep.

"You didn't answer my question."

* lyrics translated by


	3. Chapter 3

_"_ _You didn´t answer my question."_

"Oh. Yes. Well….. hmm," She pondered what to say. Clearly he was not going to be distracted this time. "Well it's just that we seem to inhabit two very different separate worlds - our intimate private one, and the public one and sometimes I find it hard to separate them. It's like when I was at the Abbey and I couldn't seem to stop doing things and saying things. Now I can't seem to stop thinking about things that really have no place outside our bedroom."

He turned onto his side facing her, leaning on his elbow to listen while his other hand played with her fingers, kissing them occasionally, while she continued.

"Tonight at the dinner table I started thinking about how there are parts of you that only I ever see."

He grinned immediately, deliberately misunderstanding her. "Well really Fraulein! I _am_ shocked!" he said with his eyebrows raised. "There _are_ definitely parts of me that only a wife should see." he teased.

She went red as she realized how her words could be interpreted. "Oh. No! What I meant was…. I didn't mean…..not parts of your body…." Then she stopped as he started laughing. "Oh, you! You know what I meant" she said in exasperation, then she started laughing too.

She sighed, "I wish I could control my thoughts the way you can. You seem to be able to keep the two worlds entirely separate without any problems."

"Ah Maria, you have no idea. Perhaps I don't blush the way you do so easily," he said caressing her cheek. "But believe me you would be shocked at my thoughts most of the time. What's worse is that I started having forbidden thoughts about you almost from the beginning. I was disgusted with myself – I was supposed to be courting Elsa, you were nearly a nun, completely innocent, much younger than me, and working in my house. No matter how much I reminded myself of these things I couldn't stop the thoughts entering my head. As part of my naval training I had developed iron-clad mental discipline that had seen me through so many battles but with you it seemed to have deserted me entirely. It was infuriating."

"Really? Oh do tell me some of the things you were thinking in those days," she begged.

"Do you remember you once went on a picnic with the children and came back wearing garlands of wildflowers that the girls had made for you, and a wreath of edelweiss in your hair?" he asked.

"Oh yes, I remember, you had spent the day with Max and the Baroness in town and you were in a very bad mood when we came home." She chided him with a smile.

"Well, you looked so incredibly lovely with the flowers in your hair and around your neck, utterly enchanting, like a bride. You were holding Gretl's and Marta's hands and you were laughing and looking at them with such tenderness. My heart just flipped over at the sight of you, I couldn't take my eyes off you. And - Dear God - Elsa was holding my arm at the time." He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck with remembered discomfort. "It felt horribly dishonorable to have such thoughts about another woman. And you would have been shocked out of your mind if you had known what I was thinking."

He cleared his throat before continuing, "Your cheeks were flushed pink, the breeze had ruffled your hair and your eyes were sparkling. All I could think of was… God help me….. that that was what you would look like after making love. And the thing I wanted to do most was to send Elsa and Max and the children into town on some errand. I imagined us walking hand in hand back to the meadow and lying down in the long grass together, hidden from the world by the trees. I imagined helping you with your clothes so that all you would be wearing would be the flowers, and then loving you while the sunlight danced on our naked skin…."

"Of course that put me in a terrible mood – it was an impossible fantasy, I was being dishonorable to both you and Elsa and I could not seem to control my thoughts – or dreams - about you. I was cursing myself and feeling terribly ashamed. That's why I snapped at you about being late for dinner again, and glowered at everyone for the rest of the evening, I'm afraid." He gave her an apologetic kiss.

"Oh darling, I had no idea. Your moodiness and curtness were inexplicable at times. I just thought you were a very complicated man. But I have to admit I love that story – not that you were tormented by having such thoughts of course – but that you were thinking such lovely things about me so early on." She kissed him tenderly. "And yes I would have been terribly shocked at the time if I had known, but now it seems completely wonderful to me. Is it still uh.… such an impossible fantasy…. I mean - now? Do you think maybe one day we could…. you know…" she trailed off, embarrassed.

He smiled but could not resist teasing her again, "My word, you _are_ getting adventurous for someone who nearly became a nun. Loving each other in a field of wildflowers with the birds and the flowers and trees around us, whatever next? But yes, it does sound rather delightful to put my thoughts into reality. Why don't we hire a private chalet on your mountain soon? Without the children of course."

"Oh", her face fell at the thought of leaving the children.

"Maria, we cannot engage in such activities with the children around. And if we are going to start acting out my illicit thoughts then you are going to be very busy - maybe for a couple of weeks or more."

In the end he had to compromise – not entirely with good grace - with only 3 days. The children were so downcast at the thought of not seeing their parents for a whole week, the little ones crying pitifully at the prospect. The bonds that had woven the family together over the last months were now so strong that even the thought of a short separation was too painful for them. As Gretl had flung her arms around Maria sobbing and begging them not to go, Brigitta had stopped playing her piano scales, unable her to hide her distress, her eyes their losing natural shine. Louisa looked up from learning her French verbs with her father, her face troubled and shuttered. She looked at Maria almost accusingly, clearly remembering previous feelings of abandonment.

The boys stopped their squabbling over their chess game long enough to ask why they couldn't come too. Kurt's face was forlorn, but Friedrich at least tried to look nonchalant as if he were mature enough that it did not matter. Liesl comforted Marta with her arms around her, but the little girl lost her battle to stop her trembling lower lip succumbing to full blown tears and like Gretl she ran towards Maria snuggling in close as the tears streamed down her cheeks.

Holding the little girls tightly, Maria had looked over at Georg with her heart aching and her eyes pleading. He had nodded, silently agreeing to let her find a better outcome for the children, though his mouth firmed with exasperation. In the end the children were able to accept that their parents should have 3 days alone together and then they would join them for another 4 days in the mountains.

Later that night, while he was preparing for bed, Maria came up and wrapped her arms around Georg from behind, hugging him tight. "I'm sorry it won't be longer but the children need us so much right now." She kissed his back, then rested her cheek against him.

She felt him sigh as he said "Maria I also need time alone with you."

"I know and I do too darling. I'm very disappointed as well but this is our first time away from them since the honeymoon. Maybe they will realize it will all be just fine and we can do it again soon."

He turned around putting his arms around her. "I'm being churlish aren't I? But you have wrapped us all up in your very special magic and none of us can bear to be apart from you." He kissed her on the nose. "We are going to have a marvelous time, both with the children and on our ow

Maria knew an elderly widow and her farmer son who owned a chalet on her mountain. The chalet was very private, set part way up the mountain but far enough below the summer snow line that it was surrounded by luscious green fields and patches of forest, with a backdrop of soaring mountain peaks reaching to the heavens. It was simply breathtaking. The location was without compare though the chalet itself was humble and quite sparsely furnished. The window boxes bursting with bright red geraniums added a definite Austrian charm to it.

Before they arrived Maria had worried it might be a little too basic for her husband who was used to much more luxurious surroundings. Georg had laughed when she told him that. "Maria, you do recall that I used to travel around under the Adriatic Sea in a small tube of metal, as a U-boat commander? For days on end I would be cramped up in tiny space with a crew of unwashed sailors, breathing in foul smoky air. Believe me, after that anything else is luxurious. Now Max on the other hand, is going to be truly miserable when he joins us there with the children," he added with a certain amount of relish. "He is much more spoiled and pampered."

So when they arrived at the chalet by horse and cart with the widow Frau Hertzel and her son, Maria was quite touched by how gentle and kind her husband was to Frau Hertzel, who was quite overwhelmed at having a member of the Austrian nobility in her presence, and not only that but Austria's most highly decorated naval hero from the Great War. She apologized profusely for the simplicity of the chalet, but Georg had looked around the scrubbed clean wooden interior and declared it perfect. When Frau Hertzel had asked if she should cook meals and send them from her farmhouse a few kilometers away, Georg had been about to say yes, when Maria interrupted to say that it wouldn't be necessary since she would be cooking. Georg's eyebrows rose but he said nothing.

Once they were alone Maria set about preparing a simple lunch using provisions in the cool room while Georg went to put their things in the bedroom and look around. She was softly singing Schubert's _Serenade_ as she put the finishing touches to the chicken and vegetable pie when she felt arms coming around her from behind, a mouth nuzzling her neck. "I didn't know you could cook" he murmured, placing a trail of kisses at the base of neck.

"Yes I learned when I was at teaching college in Vienna. There are many things you still don't know about me, I'm a woman of mystery," she joked knowing she was quite the opposite.

"Mmm I'm beginning to see that. It has been my infinite joy these last eight months to discover so many delightful things about you."

She turned around in his arms. "You were very sweet to Frau Hertzel but terribly rude to her son. He was just trying to be helpful." Georg looked at her for a long moment, then growled "I didn't like the way he was looking at you." As he strode off to put a small table and bench outside so they could eat with a view of the mountains, Maria stared after him, perplexed. The way the young man had looked at her? What on earth did he mean? The young man hadn't been rude to her at all, on the contrary they had had an amiable chat about mountain life and then had both burst into peals of laughter as he showed her how to work the water pump. The pump had coughed and spluttered from lack of use, then with a gurgling sound a sudden surge of water had come out, spraying everywhere, and drenching their feet. As they laughed together Georg had appeared using an icy tone normally only reserved for errant governesses and insubordinate navy recruits. The poor man had scurried off and left with the horse and cart shortly after. Maria shrugged, shaking her head - if anyone was an enigma it was Georg not her.

"That was delicious", he sighed with pleasure, finishing off the last piece and biting into a crisp apple. She had enjoyed cooking for him as much as he had enjoyed having her do it for him. It was something that she never had a chance to do at home because of his chef. But here it was almost as if they were just an ordinary farming couple, enjoying the simple pleasures of life.

Maria smiled and stretched, "I feel like a nap now," she said unthinkingly. The way Georg turned to look at her with a sudden intensity had the heat creeping into her face. She felt unaccountably shy, realizing that this was the first time they had truly been alone since their honeymoon.

"What a charming idea, but perhaps we should have a walk first," he said softly. He retrieved a knapsack from inside and she couldn't help noticing with a skitter of anticipation that there were blankets tied to it. They set off across trails through beautiful fields of lush grass, splashing mountain streams, tumbling waterfalls and rocky river beds.

Although she was nimble as a mountain goat, having grown up on the mountain, she still enjoyed the reassuring feel of his steady hands as he helped her across, his boots keeping a sturdy grip on the rough terrain. Both of them were unbearably moved by the majesty of the mountains and the beauty of the surroundings - Austria in all her exquisite beauty.

Finally Georg stopped in a meadow full of wild grass, dotted with splashes of bright red poppies, gorgeous blue cornflowers and a host of other wildflowers. Maria breathed in, twirling around slowly at the lovely scene, her eyes up at the sky – impossibly blue, scudded with clouds.

When she turned back to Georg, he was standing silently watching her, the long grass reaching up his brown suede trousers almost to his thighs, the soft linen country shirt billowing slightly in the breeze, butterflies and other insects fluttering around. He had already laid the blanket down.

He slowly stretched out his arm to her, palm upwards, in the same way he had done in that hallowed cathedral where they had begun their journey together as man and wife. Equally slowly and with a profound sense of trust and joy she placed her hand in his and he drew her to him.

And for a while it was as if only the two of them existed in the world.

Afterwards he tucked blue cornflowers into her hair, bringing out the lovely blue of her eyes. As he used a long stemmed flower to stroke the skin of her bare arm she asked him softly "Was it the way you imagined it it would be?"

"Oh much, much better. Perfect."


	4. Chapter 4

Maria lay dozing in the warm sunshine wrapped in a blanket and her husband's arms, watching clouds racing across the sky, listening to the sounds of the birds singing and the breeze rustling through the long grass. She silently thanked God for all the blessings he had bestowed on her. One of her greatest sources of joy in the last eight months had been seeing how Georg and his children had been re-forging unbreakable bonds of love. He had been working hard to make up for the lost years as he called them, and they had been more than happy to meet him half way. The children's birthdays had become one such source of building these loving bonds. Maria smiled thinking of their special birthday activities and the joy on their faces.

 _It was Maria who had initially come up with the idea when Georg had asked her advice on what to give Louisa for her birthday. She_ _had thought long and hard about what to give his most serious and reserved child, and kept coming back to the fact that the thing each child treasured most was individual time with their father. So she suggested that Louisa be allowed to choose an activity to do with her father in the hours before breakfast on her birthday._

 _Louisa had been delighted, opting to go horse riding at dawn. Basking in her father's love and attention, she had blossomed. When she came back, this usually solemn child, so rare to smile, was seen laughing happily as Georg walked in with his arm around her telling her of his boyhood horse-riding mishaps. That precious hour was more special to her than the expensive painting set that her parents had given her. With the other children enviously observing her special time with their father, they had asked if they too could have this choice, and so a new family tradition had been born. On their birthday each child could spend the early morning hours with their father in whatever activity they wished._

 _When Gretl's turn came she chose to have a tea party in the nursery with her father. Maria had peeked in to see Georg sitting solemnly at the little table between a wide-eyed porcelain doll and a bedraggled teddy bear, eating imaginary birthday cake as Gretl poured him invisible tea with her tea-set. Just when Maria thought she could not possibly love her husband more, she found her heart swelling just that much more with tenderness. He looked up at her as she sneaked a peek and he gave her a self-conscious smile and self-deprecating shrug in the same way that he had done after singing Edelweiss._

 _Even though Marta's birthday had already passed she was given her chance too. She chose to go for an early morning drive in the car with her father. But being unused to his individual attention, she had become so overwhelmed with shyness and happiness she could not speak a word during the whole time. Unlike with Gretl who had kept up a constant stream of chatter, it was Georg who spoke gently and patiently with his shy little daughter for the full hour. When she came back, carried by her father, her face buried in his neck, she had run to Maria. To Georg's amused disbelief the little girl had found her voice again, cuddled up in Maria's lap telling her where they had been, what they had seen and what her father had said. Marta later confided in her that next year she would not be so shy._

 _Brigitta, whose birthday was close to Christmas, had chosen to hire a horse and carriage festooned with Christmas decorations to ride through the streets of Salzburg with her father. Wrapped in blankets they had arrived back with snowflakes dusting their clothes and their eyelashes, exhilaration in Brigitta's eyes as she hugged him closely, not wanting the moment to end ever._

 _Kurt opted to go fishing even though it was the dead of winter and bitterly cold on the lake. Georg did not protest and so the two set off in the dark morning light, bundled up in clothes and blankets so that Georg could teach his younger son to fish. When they came back, their faces were red from the biting cold, and in Kurt's case also excitement as he showed off three small lake fish. He nearly burst with pride when Georg instructed the cook to fry them up with butter and lemon for the morning breakfast so that everyone could have a small piece._

 _Friedrich's birthday fortunately was in the warmer months so his choice to learn how to sail a small boat had been more easily accomplished. Borrowing a small sailing skiff from neighbours Georg had taught his older son how to ease and trim a sail as well as basic jibe and tacking maneuvers. From the happy and boyish smile on her husband's face Maria could tell he had enjoyed the early morning sail almost as much as Friedrich._

 _Liesl's birthday was still to come and she was still undecided on what to do, both helped and hindered by a constant stream of advice from her siblings, on what had now become one of the family's most cherished traditions._

Maria felt Georg stirring beside her, his eyes opening drowsily, blinking in the sunshine. After a moment of confusion, memories came back of their blissful afternoon. He spent several long moments tenderly kissing her. "We need to get back to the chalet darling."

Georg lit the lanterns inside the chalet. They cast pools of warm soft golden light around the wooden interior, shadows flickering and dancing. He also lit the fireplace since even in the summer the nights could have distinctly chilly bite. As they ate their dinner Maria enjoyed having a relaxed informal meal with her husband for once, rejoicing in the freedom to kiss him and touch him whenever she wanted. During dessert she sat on his lap, his arms around her slender waist as she fed him the tiny sweet wild strawberries they had discovered on their trek back, laughing as he kissed and nibbled her fingers.

Inevitably their conversation turned the children. "I wonder how the children are," she mused.

"No doubt running rings around Max while he spoils them rotten with ice cream for dinner and midnight bedtimes," he responded dryly.

"I hope Louisa is alright. She is so sensitive these days. It's such a difficult age." Before they left Louisa had gone out of her way to pick a fight with Kurt and then turned on Brigitta when she intervened. Friedrich, ever the peace-maker, had also faced her wrath before she stormed upstairs to her bedroom with a loud slam of the door.

"Hmph," Georg snorted, finding his second daughter's tantrums inexplicable and irritating. "She is so moody and bad tempered - I don't know where she gets it from."

Maria nearly laughed as she said with a certain amount of irony "Yes it's a complete mystery."

He heard the laughter in her voice and saw the suppressed mirth in her eyes. "Ah, so you think she gets it from me do you?" he asked with mock indignation.

"Well darling, in some ways she is like you and in others she is not. She does tend to brood about things and she feels things very deeply. She is slow to trust but when you earn her respect she is fiercely loyal. You know, out of all the children I think she was the most upset about this trip. She buries her feelings deeply but they come out in other ways. Underneath I think she is terrified that although we are so happy as a family now it will all go terribly wrong and she will be alone and bereft again. She is testing us all the time to see whether we will keep loving her. I hurt her terribly when I ran away to the Abbey without saying goodbye and she has not forgotten that." Maria sighed regretfully, "I need to make it up to her and earn her trust again, but I think it will take some time."

Georg rubbed his mouth with two fingers, listening thoughtfully, gaining fresh insights into his most puzzling and difficult child. "How did you get to be so wise, Fraulein?" he asked. Both of them smiled, remembering how he had asked her that same question long before they were engaged and at that time she had felt confused and secretly elated by the warmth in his eyes. She had made some flustered response about not being wise and then fled, her heart racing, confused and distracted for the rest of the evening, both craving to spend more time with him and to run away from him.

"Now Friedrich on the other hand, is the complete opposite. He is always helpful and always doing his best for the family. Such a sweet sunny nature – I assume he gets that from his mother?" Maria teased him.

"Yes, he is a lot like her. He was always Agathe's favourite, though she hid it well from the other children. He was her golden boy and she adored him."

Maria remembered how helpful Friedrich had been the previous weekend on their family hike when the two little girls had inevitably become tearful with exhaustion, their legs aching. Georg had put Gretl on his shoulders but was unable to help Marta. Without prompting Friedrich had volunteered to piggy back Marta. Even though Maria knew that of all his sisters, he had the softest spot for Marta, it could not have been easy for a boy of 15 to manage her weight over the uneven terrain. When his father had squeezed his shoulder and quietly said to him "Thank you son, I know I can always rely on you," Friedrich had flushed with pride and pleasure at the praise and seemed to grow another two inches taller. He carried Marta so cheerfully and playfully that she started giggling again as they headed down the mountain to the train station.

Maria smiled - Friedrich was certainly turning into a fine young man, always trying to emulate his father. Though he had been confused and disappointed when he had suggested to Georg that he go to a military academy and Georg had firmly discouraged him.

"Why don't you want Friedrich to follow in your footsteps? I thought all fathers wanted to have their sons follow them?" Maria asked.

"Because he is only suggesting it because he thinks that's what I want. I joined the naval academy at 14 and it was a horrid brutal place. And although I loved being on the seas in peacetime and had wonderful adventures visiting far flung exotic place, during wartime it was hell on earth. I don't want either of my boys to bear witness to the things I have seen in wartime. So many young men cut down in their prime - I could not bear it if something happened to them. I'll talk to Friedrich again and explain better. He is doing well in sciences, maybe that would be a better path for him."

There was a pause as Maria tried to think about how to broach the subject their eldest child. "And, darling, I need to talk to you about Liesl," Maria began cautiously.

"Oh? That sounds serious…?" A thought occurred to him, igniting his temper. "Is this about that wretched telegram boy? Is Liesl trying to get you to persuade me to let him see her? Well it is _absolutely_ out of the question!"

"No darling…" Maria tried to interrupt but it was too late – his temper was well and truly erupting. From previous experience she knew she would just have to wait out the storm.

He continued furiously - "You and Liesl are very naïve when it comes to young men but I am not. I know what they are like and what they want. I'm sure that the two of you harbor some ridiculous romantic notions that their situation is like our own love story but it is not. That damn boy did not even have the decency to ask permission to see my daughter, instead sneaking around behind my back. I would not have given my permission but at least I would have respected his courage and integrity in asking for it."

He scraped back his chair angrily and started pacing, the fingers on one hand wiggling in his agitation as he continued. "If she wants to come out as a debutante in a year or so then she cannot have the slightest smudge on her reputation. I don´t know how far things went but if he has acted dishonorably I will wring his neck," he said with gritted teeth.

Maria decided not to tell him that Liesl had confided in her about her first kiss. Georg was enraged enough. Instead she said "She hasn't seen him since that time you ordered him off the property."

Georg snorted with derision, "I should have thrown him in the damn lake when he gave me the Nazi salute."

Maria walked up to him and hugged him to stop his pacing, but his body remained rigid in her arms, still enveloped in his rage. She kissed his angry mouth but it remained set in a grim terse line. She spoke to him softly. "It was wrong of Rolf to see her behind your back. I don't think it went far and it is all over now. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. It's related in a way but nothing to do with Rolf. I need you to listen to me though."

He gave a curt nod to indicate he was listening, and she noticed his body was relaxing from its angry state in her arms. She led him to the sofa facing the fireplace, the soft golden glow and the dancing flickering flames helping to sooth him.

She waited until he was settled and then began. "It's not really surprising that she thought she was in love with him. He was the first and only boy she has ever met. She has not had a chance to meet people her own age. And by believing she was in love with Rolf maybe it helped her to escape from her burdens and responsibilities for awhile, and dream like any young person. She has been a little mother to her siblings for the last four years, helping them with their problems, comforting them, guiding them. That is a huge responsibility for one so young. Even now, when the children know that we are there to help them, they often still turn to her, and it is simply too much pressure for her. She needs a chance to breathe, to have romantic dreams, to sulk and throw tantrums like Louisa if she wants to, to be free from responsibilities, to be a carefree young lady."

Georg was silent, leaning forward staring at the flames, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. The silence drew on endlessly.

"Darling?" she asked into the silence. "Georg?" Still no response. She knelt in front of him so she could cradle his face and look into his eyes. What she saw made her heart ache. Gone was the anger, replaced by something far worse - bitter regrets and self-condemnation.

"Oh sweetheart I didn't mean this as a way to criticize you. You have made it up to the children for those years when you were lost in grief and despair."

He shook his head slowly, "I know you didn't, but it still remains that I failed her and all the other children too. She was just twelve years old when she lost her mother. Not only did I fail to help ease her pain but my neglect meant she took on the responsibility of being a little mother to the others." He shook his head in disbelief. "Just twelve years old," he repeated. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead wearily.

Maria felt annoyed with herself for hurting him, reminding him of his lost years. She should have found a more tactful way of explaining about Liesl. "Georg, the children understand about what happened. They see it as a tribute to how much you loved and honored their mother. They know that that depth of love is precious and rare. And now they have you back and they couldn't be happier. The girls adore you and the boys hero-worship you. They have forgiven and forgotten."

"They may be generous with their forgiveness, but I will regret it to my last breath. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to them," he vowed quietly. "And yes you are right about Liesl. She does need to spend time with young people her own age and without her siblings. I will see what I can arrange with various friends with children the same age."

Maria led him down beside the fireplace. He stretched out fully on the soft rug, his head in her lap, as she stroked his head and hair, caressing his face, until at last the lines of strain started to ease around his mouth. She told him amusing and sweet stories about the children until the ghost of a smile turned into chuckles and laughter.

"It's getting late, we should get ready for bed" she said, yawning.

He opened his eyes a slit to look up at her. She could see a distinct gleam in them despite the flickering flames from the fireplace. "As it happens, a number of my illicit dreams when you were our governess involved you lying on a luxurious rug beside a fire," he murmured with a smile.


End file.
